I see what I could have had if the world skipped a turn, if the lands stopped drifting.
It’s either the echo of a previous life that carried over to present in forms of bizarre coincidences, or, it’s real and here but it’s too amazing and too big for me to properly see it, like a yew tree in front of a ladybug.
But Andersen Fairytales hardly ever have happy endings,
And I am not some naïve little mermaid chasing a nordic prince,
What I am is a Greek siren, except, I’m heading to my own shipwreck.